


The Years Have Been So Kind To You

by onlybritainisgreat (frecklesarechocolate)



Series: An Encumbered Life Becomes The Only Thing [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 05:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklesarechocolate/pseuds/onlybritainisgreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas handles Dean.</p><p>You don't need to read the other parts of the series to understand what's going here, although I'd love it if you did!</p><p>Just so you know, Dean's fifty years old in this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Years Have Been So Kind To You

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, so much fluff and I'm really sorry.

"Dean," Cas said.

Dean looked up at Cas and smiled. "Hiya, Cas."

"What are you doing?" Cas pointed at the magazine that Dean was holding out at arm's length. Straining to hold it even further than arm's length, if the truth be told.

"Uh, reading? What does it look like I'm doing?" He dropped the magazine into his lap, a guilty expression on his face.

"An odd form of exercise. Are you in pain?" Cas's eyebrows lowered a fraction, giving him the air of someone who was frowning without actually going the whole hog.

Dean rubbed his hand over his face. "No, I'm not in pain."

"Then what? Because that," Cas pointed, "didn't look like reading."

"I was reading," Dean said defensively. "I just...it was easier...I could see it better when it was further away," he mumbled.

Cas did frown this time as he sat down next to Dean. "What?"

"I was holding it so I could see the print more easily. It's blurry when it's close up." Dean folded his arms across his chest and gripped his elbows with his hands.

"How long have you been having this problem?" Cas asked.

"I don't know, a while?" Dean said. He shifted uncomfortably. "It's not a big deal. My arms just...just aren't long enough."

The look that Cas shot him was priceless, a combination of surprise, irritation and affection. "Dean. Your arms are the proper length. I should know," Cas said, smirking. “Stitched you back together, remember?”

"Well, what else could it be then?" Dean said. He was not being purposely obtuse. Not at all.

Cas leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped lightly between them. "Your eyesight is going bad?"

"What? No. That's...no."

Cas nodded. He reached up and cupped Dean's cheek against his palm and closed his eyes briefly. He made a small humming sound as he did so, opening his eyes again after a few scant seconds. "The good news is that your arms are definitely the proper length. The bad news is that you probably need glasses. I should make an appointment with the eye doctor for you."

"I don't need glasses!" Dean spluttered.

Cas trailed his finger across Dean's cheek lightly before letting his hand fall. "If I agree with you, will you still go to the eye doctor?"

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes toward the heavens. "That wouldn't exactly be agreeing with me so much as it would be humoring me until you got what you wanted."

Cas nodded. "That was the plan, yes. So?"

Dean opened his mouth to say something, not quite certain what, exactly, but something. Nothing came out. "But..."

Cas raised his eyebrows and just looked at Dean. "Yes?" Cas stood up and headed toward the kitchen. "I'll make the appointment for later this week."

Dean leaned his head on the back of the couch. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

"No," Cas said, his voice fading as he moved further away.

"Bossy angel," Dean muttered.

"I heard that," Cas said from the kitchen.

"Cas, are you handling me?" Dean asked.

Cas walked out of the kitchen, phone to his ear. He placed a finger on his lips. "Shh. Yes, hello. I'd like to make an appointment to see the eye doctor." He paused. "Yes, I think I might need glasses." Dean rolled his eyes at Cas. "Winchester. Yes, like the rifle. Dean. One o'clock on Friday would be wonderful. Thank you."

Cas disconnected the call and smiled down at Dean. "Yes, I am handling you, Dean. Someone has to do it, and it doesn't look like you are, so..."

"Whatever, dude. I'm not going to go."

Cas leaned down and kissed Dean. "Yes, you are."

"What makes you so sure?" Dean asked, knowing he was being petulant and childish, but not really caring. The whole idea that he might need glasses - reading glasses - was freaking him the hell out. He was not old enough to need glasses. Okay, so fifty year old men sometimes needed reading glasses. Fifty-year-old men were mature about that. Dean was fifty. Dean did not necessarily have to belong in the same circle with mature fifty year olds who wore glasses.

"Because I asked you to, and you love me." Cas smiled and kissed Dean again.

"Dammit," Dean said. Because Cas was right.


End file.
